Vampire Heart
by BadBoysLover
Summary: When memories reel in, Damon Salvatore only knows one way to pacify them... [One shot for now. Might be extended in the future. Rather dark Damon show/book]


_"You are telling me that I, Giuseppe, Conte di Salvatore, will have to face my friends knowing that my son is a scioparto? A ne'er-do-well? An idler who makes no useful contribution to Florence?"_

**_Giuseppe Salvatore, The Awakening, Chapter 03, p.024_**

**_~x~x~o~x~x~_**

"Don't you turn your back on me and walk away when I'm talking to you, you ungrateful scoundrel," my father yelled at me as I passed by him and sauntered back to my chambers.

This was the typical reprimand Giuseppe Salvatore would throw at me whenever he gulped down his favorite whiskey and I had spent yet another night in the forest, the only place where I found some peace…

"Rambling of a drunken old man, nothing I want to hear or haven't heard before," I exclaimed without even looking back; I knew that my defiant nature would get me into troubles, but that was all I got anyway and I really couldn't help myself.

A man who had slept with half of the women in town right after my dear mother had died deserved no respect whatsoever. I was only 13 years old yet I understood pretty well what he was doing.

"How dare you! I'll teach you to respect your father, scioparto!" A blur of intoxicated words came stumbling out his mouth prior to accompanying his insults with rapid staggering steps in my direction.

Swiveling my head around, cobalt hues focused on the wooden cane my father was waving menacingly in the air, the silvery handle glinting within his tight grasp. Lips pursed whilst I slid to the side, easily avoiding the first strike he delivered.

"Missed that for quite a few meters," I commented sardonically after the rigid element encountered the small table standing by the foyer's wall, taking down a fine lamp with it.

"Bastardo maledetto!" He spat out venomously, causing thin lines to upturn into a scornful sneer. I was about to retort when a small voice echoed from behind us.

"Father?"

Of course, he had waked him up…

As soon as my head had snapped back towards the little boy, a harsh blow struck the back of my skull, making me stumble a few feet away from Stefan, who was half hiding behind the doorframe.

Those diaphanous emerald eyes of his wide and frightened until they were squeezed tightly a moment after when sound of the wooden shaft colliding with my flesh filled the room.

"Stefan…" I was slightly dizzy by the pounding ache invading my skull; my vision blurry, and my head spinning around still. My hand clutched the back of my neck where the cane had hit me as I watched my little brother running to where I was.

"No!"

"Father, please!"

I could hear the tears behind Stefan's cracking voice as he begged father to stop. I tilted my cranium back as I could, reaching out for the thin stick to keep Giuseppe from beating Stefan as well.

"I didn't even feel that, old man. A little girl can do it better," I chuckled mockingly in a raspy tone, forcing an arrogant smirk upon pale tiers, instantly acknowledging the change in his aged façade; I had managed to set him off and turn his attention back at me. "Stefan. Go to your room, now," I obliged my voice to sound calm yet haughty enough to taunt our father as I placed my left arm protectively in front of my brother, pushing his petite figure back without losing eye-contact with our enraged progenitor.

If he had to beat me up to take his frustration out on someone other than Stefan, so be it..

**x**

**~~ [Present] ~~**

**x**

"Please! No! Stop! Please!" Desperate pleas abandon my victim's mouth as I drink from him savagely, keeping his middle-aged physique pinned against the wall of some cheap bar outside the town.

The more he implores, the harder I clench my jaws into his flesh, piercing that exquisite, pulsing bluish vein at the side of his neck with lethal precision.

I wanted to cause as much damage as was possible without finishing him off just yet. I wanted to make it hurt, make _him_ suffer.

His futile screams for help are amusing and they definitely create the wickedest music…

The old man struggles against me with all the strength he has left in his body but there is nothing he can do against me, of course. Any effort is in vain. Blood is the fuel for my ravenous soul, for the raging demon living within me…

As soon as my razor-sharp canines are withdrawn from his wounded throat, I draw in a deep breath and exhale slowly, sensing the corners of stained brims forming an ominously intoxicated simper while the webbed dark veins beneath my onyx optics pulsed relentlessly. I had pulled back just in time to catch the last few moments of my prey's agony; sanguine fluid oozes profusely out the profound bitemark, trickling down his ivory skin and soaking his white shirt. I had held back just enough to watch these precious seconds before he becomes yet another lifeless carcass, a pale corpse that I soon let slide all the way down the brick wall until it falls to the ground with a loud thud.

Life has escaped his eyes right in front of me and I don't even have a twinge of remorse about it.

I relish in the saccharine aftertaste of his vital essence as my tongue wipes the crimson remnants lingering in the corners of my mouth, gazing down at the gray-haired man at my feet briefly before turning on my heels, walking away…

Now that I come to think about it, he didn't look so much to my father...


End file.
